


All the Colors

by akpoptrash1



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural AU
Genre: Blind Dean, M/M, Painter Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akpoptrash1/pseuds/akpoptrash1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel meets Dean at an art museum. They hit off right away, despite the fact one manipulates colors to his will and one has never seen anything other than darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Colors

Castiel first met Dean when he was at an art museum. He was a pretty good artist, if he said so himself, and he heard that there was a new exhibit at the museum. Hopefully, this would't be the "modern art" that he despised so much. A solid color or a series of stripes. That was lazy painting. And yet, it would sell of millions of dollars.

The exhibit was nothing special at first. Solids and stripes. Typical. Then, he saw the next room.

It was color that was twisted and sprayed and dropped. Sure, it was just one color per canvas, but it was a step up.

In the middle of the room was a very handsome man. He had golden hair and sunglasses. It was odd that he had the sunglasses, that was, until Castiel saw the walking stick resting against his leg.

He walked over, something compelling him to. He sat down next to him. They were facing a huge canvas consisting of the color blue. It swirled, like a whirlpool, but it was missing the other colors that made up swirling a foaming water.

"What does it look like?" the blind man asked. His voice was deep and husky. Castiel studied the painting an extra second before replying.

"It only has the color blue. It swirls around itself in circles. Like this." Out of nowhere, he grabbed the man's hand and drew the painting in the air, circling and circling to the middle.

The man smiled a little. "Thank you. I'm Dean."

"I'm Castiel. It's nice to meet you."

"Are you doing anything after this?" Castiel paused, and Dean rushed to continue, "I'm sorry if you don't swing that way. I just thought your voice sounded nice and you were kind enough to help me out-"

"Please, stop talking," Castiel interrupted. "I'm not doing anything. There's a bar a few blocks away. Does that sound okay?"

Dean smiled widely and nodded.

Four hours later, Castiel was walking him home. They had hit off great and had plans to meet up again in a few days. He was almost giddy with excitement as he painted a picture of two figures sitting at a bar, enjoying themselves, one of their heads tossed back in laughter, a walking stick leaning against their knee.

Six months later, the two of them were living together at Castiel's apartment. He was careful to leave everything exactly where he found it to help Dean out. They were happy together.

One day, Castiel was painting in his little studio next to the kitchen. Dean brought him some coffee, like usual. He sat in his chair by the window, saying nothing at first.

"Cas?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you teach me how to paint?"

He paused, brush about to glide across the canvas. "Sure. Yeah, why not? Let me get a new canvas."

Once he had set everything up, he helped Dean to his stool. He placed a brush in his hand and set the little pails of paint up around him.

"So, the order of colors goes red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, black, and white. Here's a plate to mix the colors on. The cup of water to wash off the brush is to your left."

Dean took the brush, and sat still for a second. "I don't know what to do."

"Well, what do you want to paint?"

"I have no idea."

Castiel laughed. "How about a tree?"

He helped Dean dip the brush in the green pail and press it against the canvas. He helped him drag it across the surface until there was no more paint on the brush.

The lessons went on like this, until Dean was painting by himself with little to no help.

After a month, he started painting in secret and wouldn't let Castiel see the painting.

"It's a surprise, and you don't get to see it," he would say, whacking his boyfriend's foot whenever he came near it.

A week later, he was ready to uncover it. He sat Castiel down on a stool and made him close his eyes. When he was sure he wasn't peeking, he uncovered the painting and told him to open his eyes.

It was Castiel. The colors were vibrant in some areas and dull in others. His eyes were still blue, and his hair was still black, but the rest was totally different, and it was beautiful. It wasn't the most lifelike thing he had ever seen, but it was still amazing.

"I memorized you face by feel," Dean explained. "Then I transferred the feel of it on to the canvas, but I don't know how I did."

"Dean, It's amazing. Better than what I could do after my first month of lessons."

"I was going to do just one color, but then I remembered how much it would piss you off, so I tried to do a little bit of every color. I only did your hair and eyes right so you would know it was your handsome face."

Castiel turned and nearly tackled Dean, kissing him all over his face.

"It's the best thing anyone has ever done for me," he whispered, smiling.


End file.
